Hota hai shab-o-roz tamaasha mere aagey: Why 'Manto' has risen in Modi's India again
Hota Hai Shab-o-Roz Tamaasha Mere Aagey
October 2, 1944 ko Gandhi ji ki sattarvi salgirah par Albert Einstein, jo ki is sadi ke sabse maqbool science-daan hue hai, unhone ye farmaaya tha ke aane wali tehzeeb aur naslen shaayad ye mushkil se hi yaqeen karengi ki khoon aur gosht se banaa aisa bhi koi shakhs tha jo kabhi is zameen par chalaa hai.
Hindustaan ko azaad hue ab sattar baras beet gaye hai. Har saal pandrah august ke din ek aalishan jalsaa sajta hai, jhaankiya nikaali jaati hain, yun maloom hota hai ke jaise nayi naveli dulhan jiska naam azaadi hai, uski dholi saj rahi ho. Magar aaj bhi, kisi gali, kisi kuche se azaadi ki lalkaren aapko askar sunaayi deti rehti hain. Kabhi University aur idaaron ke galyaron me to kabhi kashmeer ki wadiyon se, ye aawaaz, ye lalkaar hume aaj bhi sunaayi deti hai.
Ye kis qism ki azaad khayaali hai? Ye log ab kaunsi azaadi ke muntazir hain?
Is sawaal ka jawaab shayad apko maujuda daur-e-jahan aur Hindustan me jo masaayil zer-e-bahas hain un par ek nazar bhar daalne se mil jaayega, koi jadeed research ki yahan ratti bhar zarorat nahin hai. Kisi ko ishq karne ki azaadi chahiye to kisi ko apni marzi ka gosht khaane ki. Koi apni baat kehne ki azaadi maang raha hai to koi yahan sirf jeene bhar ki azaadi ka muntazir hai. Hindu-Musalman fasaad aaj bhi ba-dastoor jaari hain, daliton ki nangi peeth aaj bhi brahamnon ke chabukon ke nishaano se sani hai, jo is mulk is qaum ki jahaalat bayaan karte hain. Kisi dil fareb aashique ki tarah, har panch saal me yahan ke neta naye wade naye sapne dikhla kar, yahan ki awaam se dil farebi aaj bhi kiya karte hain.
Sadiyon se, is muashre par ek ghalazat barpa hai, chunache iski shakl aur naam har mulk me mukhtalif hain. Amreeka me black, Pakistan me ise kabhi shia to kabhi Ahmadi kaha jata hai. Bharat yani ke Hidustaan me ise dalit aur aaj kal musalaman bhi kaha ja raha hai. Ye jahaalat us ghatiya soch ki paidayish hai jo sadiyon se aksariyat yani majority ke zehan me bhari jati rahi hai. Isi soch ki paidayish hai ye hungame, tamaashe aur qatl-e-aam jisme kabhi koi shia kabhi ahmadi to kabhi koi Hindu ya musalman maara jata raha hai.
Inhi lashon ke dher se jalaayi hui aag par siyasat-daan apni rotiyan sekte hain. Unhe ye darr hai ke agar ye aag bujh gayi to phir unki rotiyan kahan sikengi. Unki bhook ko mitaane ke liyen ye lashen zarori hain. Qissa-e-mukhtasar, agar ye lashen nahin hongi to wo siyasat nahi hogi. Mulk me chain-o-aman hoga, khush-hali hogi, afsurdgi nahin hogi. In lashon ka hona theek usi tarah zaroori hai jis tarah kisi khatmal ke liyen gandgi aur ghalazat ka mayassar hona hai. Khulasa meri fikr ka ye hai, ke chashm-e-siyasat se agar aap is muashre ko dekhen to har Hindu aapko Godse aur har Musalmaan jihaadi nazar aayega.
Hindustan ki azaadi ne humne jo Jamhuriyat ke khwaab dekhe the, sach to ye hai ke usi ki aad me ye insaniyat hai jiki tradegy siskiyan bharti hain. Sattar baras ke baad aaj bhi, Hindustan isi phate dhoodh ki lassi swaraaj dhoond raha hai. Yahan tamaashbeen ziyada hain aur leader kam, aur jo hain wo qawaneen-e-fitrat ke khilaaf chal rahe hain. Yahan imaan aur saafdili ka birth control karne ke liyen siyasat daano ne azaadi ke raham ka munh band kar diya hai aur jahaalat ab yahan ka nizaam ban gayi hai. Ye daur-e-jahaan ki zaroorat ho chali hai. Aur phir kyunkar na ho, kisi jaahil ke zehan se paida hui, ye jahaalat aaj society aur tehzeeb-o-tammaddun ka aham hissa ban gayi hai.
Is jahaalat me jism faroshi karne wali us besahara aurat ki khwahishen hain jise ye society kisi gandi naali me bahaa chuki hai. Is jahaalat me us naukri paisha bus me safar karne wale middle class aadmi ki khamoshi hai jo har raat apni zarooraton se lad jhagad ke haar maan leti hai. Is jahaalat me chulhe ki aag se apni saansen phoonk chuki us bezaar aurat ki afsurdgi hai jise ye gham hai ke aaj phir paanch peton me jalti aag ki bhook, sirf 2 rotiyon aur paani se bujhaani padegi. Mazhabi junoon ki jahaalat. Muftkhori ki jahaalat. Society ke nangepan ki jahaalat. Sisaayi shor ki jahaalat. Government ke behrepan ki jahaalat. Ye saari jahaalaten milkar Hindustaani taareekh ki bakhiya udhed rahi hain. Roz-ba-roz. Bina naagha. Hindustan ki jahaalat ke madd-e-nazar, Einstien ka kahaa aaj sach saabit hota nazar aata hai. Aaj ka Hindustaan Gandhi ji ke khwaabon ka Hindustan nahin hai, isliyen ke ye Godse ki khwaahishon ka Hindustan hai.
Na ab Gandhi raha na uska wo Hindustaan. Hindustan ab adh-nange tamaashon ka mulk hai. Goya, ye kehna meri nazar me shayad ghair-munasib na ho ke baazicha-e-atfaal hai Hindustaan mere aage, hota hai Shab-o-roz tamaasha mere aagey.
(English translation)
On October 2, 1944, on the occasion of Gandhiji's 70th birthday, one of the most renowned scientists of our time, Albert Einstein expressed his admiration for Mahatma Gandhi and said, "Generations to come, it may well be, will scarce believe that such a man as this one ever in flesh and blood walked upon this Earth."
It has been 70 years since India got its Independence. Every year, on August 15, a mega event of colourful tableaus and parades is organised as if a newlywed bride named "azadi" is walking down the aisle. Yet, 70 years on, the idea of "azadi" is still being challenged, one can hear the strange whispers of muzzled voices calling for azadi from the streets we have never walked on. From the corridors of universities and colleges to the scenic valleys of Kashmir, the calls for azadi are all too common.
What sort of liberalisation is this? What freedom are they seeking?
Well, if you look at the discourse in India and matters of national importance, you'll get the answers. Somebody is seeking the freedom to express love, somebody is merely asking for the freedom to eat the meat of his/her choice. Someone is seeking freedom of expression and someone asking for his right to live peacefully.
Hindu-Muslim riots are still the order of the day, Dalits are still being persecuted and their backs carry the whipping scars of upper caste Brahmins' atrocities. This speaks a lot about the current state of the country.
Every five years, politicians lure the nation with false promises and sell fake dreams much like the heartless deceitful beloved would.
Since time immemorial, societies across time and space have nurtured this special kind of squalid reality, although its name and face may differ from country to country. Blacks in America, or Shia and Ahmadi in Pakistan are some examples of this squalid reality. In India, we call them Dalits and these days Muslims have been a target of the same ugly reality - a result of the sense of insecurity being fed and propagated in the minds of the majority.
These insecurities, the fear of the "other" are the reasons we see riots and public display of violence engulfing the prevailing peace and at times taking the life of a Shia, Ahmadi, Muslim or Hindu.
These pyres of bodies and corpses serve as fuel for politicians and their hate machinery, as they are aware that these bodies, these pyres are the lifeblood of their ugly propaganda. Politicians feed on these corpses like vultures. To cut the long story short, bodies are essential to their politics. A world without politicians feeding on bodies would be a peaceful world of coexistence, one devoid of melancholy.
Perhaps, these bodies are as important for politicians as filth and dirt are for insects and bed bugs. As I discern from my thoughts, seen from the lens of politics, every Hindu will appear to be Godse and every Muslim a jihadi.
Truth be told, in the garb of India's democracy, the dreams and vision of a democratic state, humanity dies everyday with painful sighs. Even after 70 years of Independence, it is in this "lassi" made of spoilt milk that India is looking for traces of self-rule. We have more bystanders than leaders in our country. And those few leaders we have are hell-bent in not obeying the law of the land. To drown the voices of those who speak truth to power and to ensure we censor these voices the moment they are born. Politicians have gagged the freedom of speech - lawlessness and barbarity are the new order.
This barbarity tells the story of an unaided and forsaken prostitute whose personal desires have no place; they have long been drained by the society which dubbed them as "filth". Abject as it is, this barbarity carries the silence of that middle class salaried professional who is desperately trying to make his ends meet, and failing everynight in this tussle. This barbarity carries the melancholy of those women who have drained her lungs fanning the fire of cookstoves and wood burners, for she's afraid here's another night when five heads will live on two chapatis and water to douse the fire in their belly. This barbarity of free hoarding and the nakedness of the society, and the barbarity unleashed by political cacophony.
To silence the voices of those who speak truth to power, in fact, to nip them in the bud, politicians have gagged freedom; lawlessness and barbarity are the order of the state.
Together, these uncivilised acts are doing irreparable damage to India's history. Everyday. Without any break. In the light of India's barbarity, maybe Einstein was right about Gandhi and future generations. India, as we see it, is far from Gandhi's ideals, for it's now the India of Godse and his ideologues.
Gandhi is long gone and so is the India he envisaged. India now stands tall as a half-naked theatre of absurd. Perhaps, it's not entirely inappropriate to conclude that India is a children's playground before me.